


Push Away the Unimaginable

by ges_who



Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: Depression, Flashbacks, House Plants, M/M, ghost character, ghost phil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7450843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ges_who/pseuds/ges_who
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil has been haunting his childhood home ever since he committed suicide over a broken heart over 100 years ago. He had long since settled into the monotonous routine of crowds flooding in and out and tour guides yammering on about his "tragic" life, when a young man walks in and breaks the chains binding him to his eternal resting place.<br/>This young man is Dan Howell, a youtuber with a wonderful life: loads of friends and millions of fans, but something is still missing. This something seems to like ckeaning his flat without his consent and stealing his neighbors' housplants...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dan

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first time posting independently! My step sibling cumberbitchalltheway will be so proud...  
> Also edited by them. Many thanks. To you readers as well.

It's always the same whenever he comes back from vidcon.  
After so many days of being surrounded by friends and fans, coming home to his empty London apartment makes him feel cold and isolated. Dan is well aware that his friends are only a tube ride, a phone call, hell, a text away, but they might as well be on a different planet in the empty, pitfall moments.  
He shakes his head to rid it of the depressing thoughts; now is hardly the time for an existential crisis. He's going out with Pj and Chris later. Some kind of haunted house thing. The tour starts at six. What time is it? Five fifteen. Fuck.


	2. Phil

Philip Lestor: born 1845, died 1870. Or at least that's what the plaque on the door says. Phil’s not sure how accurate it is, but he has nothing else to go on. He can't remember a time before he haunted this house, but there must have been one if the tour guides can keep droning on and on about a gentle young man who died tragically due to the prejudices of his time. Apparently Phil had committed a dramatic suicide after the murder of his lover at the hands of those who did not believe two men should be in love. It really was all very sad, but the tale sort of lost its charm after a few decades of hearing it retold, details ever changing but general idea still the same.   
Phil’s day was going as it normally did. Groups of tourists flooded in, took pictures of various bits or furniture or wallpaper. If Phil saw a little kid a raptly watching the plants in the room (Phil had apparently gained a reputation for moving those in particular) he would shift one of them a few painstaking inches. He always found this exercise to be draining, but it was worth it for the excited shrieks that the children let out at having seen authentic ghost activity. But then around six (according to the clock on the wall) a group of young men walked in that made him feel… something. One of them in particular. Tall, dark brown hair, warm brown eyes that looked like they were a million miles away and not a fan of what they were seeing. There was a heavy sort of sadness to this young man. A loneliness that he carried, even surrounded by people. Phil could relate.  
He listened in on enough of the group’s conversation to find out his name, Dan, and then tuned it out so he could focus on the man’s eyes some more. He wanted to wipe away the frown lines on that face, the pinched look he maintained the whole night. He wanted to wrap his arms around Dan and never let go. He was so entranced that he didn't realize it when he followed Dan out of the house he had spent the past century and a half in, into horseless chariots and underground tunnels that moved. He only realized when he walked into the young man’s house within a larger house that he had left his spot. He had never been able to do that before, try as he might, so this was a shock that hit him like a fist to the gut. Oh, well. Can't turn back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

Dan had the strange sensation of being watched clinging to the back of his mind the entire ride home. He had figured it was due to the sheer amount of people he was surrounded by; after all, London was a crowded city. Odds are, someone is looking at you. But then the feeling followed him into his home. He decided to ignore it. It wasn't even that unpleasant really, just a bit disconcerting.   
Dan went into his room and shrugged out   
of his clothes, put on some pajamas. He layed down and stared at the ceiling, ready to lie there for hours and wait for sleep like he usually did. Maybe go on his phone or...something…  
Dan suddenly felt very warm. The cozy kind, like warm cocoa after a day of running around in London snow. He fell asleep almost immediately.  
In his dream he was wearing what looked like incomplete steampunk cosplay. There was a young man standing in front of him with bright blue eyes and a shock of dark hair. They were standing behind a shed on what looked like a farm, the colors simultaneously sun bleached and vivid. The other young man smiled at him shyly, glancing up at him from under his eyelashes. Leaning in for a kiss. Dan felt butterflies in his tummy, a litany of what if we're caught what if they see what if what if in his mind, but he pressed into the kiss none the less. It just felt so right. It only lasted a few seconds, a few precious seconds, then it was over. He stared into the nervous, giddy eyes in front of him, leaned in again…  
And sat up in his bed. The sun was streaming through the window, the clock on his phone read 10:36.


	4. Chapter 4

Once Phil was sure that Dan was sleeping, he unwrapped his arms from around him and climbed out of his bed. It was real nice, but he had work to do. Dan’s flat (he was pretty sure that was the word for it, but there wasn't really anything flat about it…) was a complete mess. Really, no wonder Dan was miserable, his entire living space was in a state of disarray, and he didn't seem like the sort of person who preferred things that way, just the sort of person who couldn't find the energy to fix it. Well, Phil had plenty of energy. Almost 200 years worth.  
After he had tidied everything away, he looked around the flat. Something was still missing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Something...green. Oh, well. He could figure it out later, Dan was waking up. Phil couldn't wait to see how he reacted to everything being put away and organized and cleaned!


	5. Chapter 5

Dan got out of bed and looked around his room.  
“What the actual fuck,” he demanded the universe. “What happened to my room?"  
It was immaculate. And not even in the creepy way showrooms were at open houses, it all had a very warm, homey feel to it. Upon further inspection, the entire flat beared this aesthetic. It was more than a little disquieting, but what was even more disquieting was the fact that Dan couldn't find it in himself to be scared at the thought that someone had apparently busted into his home and organized everything. He chuckled.  
“Well, thanks whoever you are. This is really nice."  
The fact of the matter was, Dan didn't think someone has broken in and done this. He knew he was probably crazy for thinking it, but there was an energy that had followed him home from that haunted house, an energy that Dan was pretty sure could be held responsible for his miraculously tidy home.  
He wasn't sure why or how it was here, but he wasn't very concerned either, which was strange for him. If anything, he felt safer, not being alone.   
He pointedly did not think about the strange dream he had had last night, and what it might mean in regard to all this.  
Instead, he decided to phone Louise. She was in town, last he had heard, and he wanted to talk to her about all this a-ghost-cleaned-my-flat business. At least he would have new material for his videos...


	6. Chapter 6

Phil spent the next few hours puttering around the flat (at least, to the extent those with no physical form can putter) exploring modern technology. When he got bored of that, he tried going outside Dan’s flat, but he couldn't seem to actually go outside. However, with enough concentration he managed to travel to the neighboring home, simply seeming to seep through the wall. And as it turned out, Dan’s neighbor had a great deal of house plants.   
"Why doesn't Dan have any plants inside his home?" He wondered, "Plants are delightful!"  
Phil figured the old woman living next door wouldn't notice if a few of the members of her plant surplus were absent, so he grabbed one of them and phased through the wall, back into the flat. However, when he can out on the other side the plant was gone. “What in the world…?”  
The plant and its pot were lying on the floor of their original home, clay pieces shattered all across the wooden floor, with damp soil topping it. The small elephant ear plant stood right in the middle of the crime scene, thankfully undamaged.  
Huh. “Well,” Phil decided, “I'll just have to try harder”.   
Six attempts and broken potted plants later, there was a small fern sitting on Dan’s kitchen table. A trail of dirt tracked through his flat, tracing itself from the wall to the plant. It basically looked like a group of unwashed dogs trampled through it.  
Before Phil had a chance to rectify this problem , a key was turning the lock of the door, and Dan was walking back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts?


	7. Dan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to write chapters longer than, like, 2 paragraphs.

Dan didn't think to look around the flat when he got home. He didn't think that was so ridiculous. After all, when most people come home from going out with a friend, they don't come home to a poltergeist.  
The conversation he had had with Louisa had been relatively helpful. She had laughed at him for about five minutes when he told her the ghost was cleaning up after him. Said something along the lines of "Well someone had to do it, and nobody living was up to the challenge ". Whatever.  
Louisa had agreed the spirit was probably friendly and not something to be worried about. Had told him to maybe try to communicate with it, figure out what its story was.  
Dan made his way over to the kitchen table, googling ways to contact spirits on his phone (besides ouiji boards: he wasn't some dumb twat from a horror movie).  
Unfortunately, all of the results he was getting seemed to involve dumb horror movie twat-esc things. Oh, well.  
Dan set his phone down and glanced up, noticing the plant for the first time. A fern. Huh.  
He reached out cautiously and poked it. Nothing exploded, so things were going well so far. There appeared to be a trail of dirt that lead from the pot on the table to..... the wall.  
"What the actual fuck," Dan muttered, "did you steal a plant from my neighbor?!".  
There was no answer, obviously.  
Dan sighed, glanced at the clock. 1:30 am. Had he really been out for that long? When, that's how it usually went with Louisa.  
He dragged himself to bed and passed out after a few minutes, laptop still open, cat video still playing.

He was kneeling in the dirt, trying to plant flowers. He was mostly just getting himself covered in dirt and descending into frustration. A young man laughed next to him, blue eyes squinting in the sunlight. Pale, slightly sunburnt hands reached over and deftly helped him burry the roots without crushing the blooms.  
"How are you so clumsy, yet so good at this?" Dan demanded. The blue eyed boy just laughed again in response. Leaned forward to kiss him, tasting like lemonade and a bit of dirt. Dan felt himself sigh into the other man's mouth. They pulled away from each other.  
"I don't hear you complaining like that in bed." Blue eyes retorted. Dan blushed and spluttered.  
They went back to their flowers, both feeling a different, more pleasant version of frustration.


	8. Phil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow... I can't believe you're even still reading this but thanks guys.  
> Also, warning for some creepy boyfriend stuff. Nothing actually happens, but there is some discussion of it so if that might bug you maybe skip this chapter.

Phil was not very happy with this new development in Dan's life. It's not like he was jealous or anything: Dan was allowed to have a boyfriend. Just maybe not one that he spent so much time with. Phil wanted Dan to have people in his life other than a ghost, but this guy gave him a bad feeling. Again, not jealousy! 

Dan was out with him tonight, partying the night away when Phil specifically remembers asking him to be home before midnight. He had even spelled it out in the alphabet fridge magnets Dan had bought for that specific purpose! This "Charlie" guy was a terrible influence! 

Phil heard them thumping up the stairs, and glanced up at the clock. Three AM.  
Through the door Phil heard dan's voice:  
"Not tonight, Charlie, I'm really not feeling up to it." 

Then Charlie's voice, forced deeper than it naturally was because the man somehow thought it made him attractive:  
"Don't be like that, Danny. I bought you dinner, brought you flowers, don't you think you can do something for me too?"

"I really need to go to bed, Charlie"

"Hey, it just so happens that that's exactly what I was proposing! Just with a little more...fun!"

What the heck!? Why wouldn't this man just leave Dan alone? He had already said no twice! Phil saw red. Literally. His vision went red for a moment, then suddenly the door to the flat was slammed open, and into the face of a man who was thankfully not Dan.

"What the fuck?" Charlie said, grabbing his bleeding, broken nose and whining in pain. Dan just stared in shock and couldn't seem to bring himself to reply.  
"I'm out of here!" and with that, the Dan's boyfriend fled, hopefully for good. 

Phil wanted to stay with Dan and make sure he was okay, but he found himself compelled to follow Charlie's retreating figure. As the pair reached the street, a man in all black clothing ran up to them.  
"Give me your wallet," he demanded gruffly.

"Fuck you man, I've had enough shit to deal with tonight," Charlie retorted, swinging an ungainly fist at the mugger who easily dodged it, and punched Charlie in the nose. The same one Phil had broken only minutes before. Charlie dropped like a bag of bricks.

"Oh, shit" the attacker muttered, turning and running away. Phil had found himself alone with an unconscious, creepy man who was still steadily bleeding through his mangled nose. Thankfully, not two minutes later, some woman walked by and called what Phil assumed to be an ambulance. When the truck arrived on the scene, flashing red and blue lights glaring through the dark night, Phil once again felt compelled to follow the man in front of him. He drifted into the back of the truck after Charlie, and was whisked away to the hospital.

**Author's Note:**

> I always enjoy feedback!


End file.
